Friday, 6 July 2007

So, me and my tulip... It was advertised as a gspot stimulator and recommended by The Times so, having decided that the ears on that damned Rabbit got on my nerves and they were so damned unreliable in terms of robustness (more on that in another post), I sent off for one. The tulip is pink or purple plastic, consisting of a straight handle ending in a sort of bulb at an angle and is operated by twisting the top of the handle. It's waterproof so you can use it in the shower or the bath as well.

The first time I used it, I was kneeling up; the second, I was lying horizontally on my bed. On both occasions, I inserted it to find my gspot. It was pleasant, but not earth shattering. Nothing like the joyfully uplifting experience I could get with my electric toothbrush and a couple of fingers.

I'm still not quite sure how it occurred to me what to do, although I suspect that, possibly, the charge in my toothbrush had died and it was the only thing to hand. All I remember is the incredible sensation as I placed the buzzing bulb against my clit. My labia opened to envelope it and the warm glow started growing instantly, taking me higher and higher until the only thing on my mind was penetration. My fingers straining and reaching higher and higher so that the two stimuli met and joined in one glorious conflagration of delight.

Only a few days earlier, I had read a report stating that over-enthusiastic use of an electric toothbrush on the clitoris could cause the death of multiple nerve endings, resulting in the deadening of sensation in that area... Thankfully, I had found a replacement instrument of pleasure.

When Ruf and I started meeting each other, it was one of the core elements of our sex kit. He loves to watch me use it, taking myself through one or two gasping orgasms before begging for his fingers or his cock. The amazing sensation as he slides into me with my clit buzzing away on overdrive cannot be described, nor can the extent of the pleasure be over-estimated. It was great for every position, on my back, on all fours, on my stomach, sideways on. The long handle means that I don't have to stretch to reach my clit and I can just come and come, over and over, each wave building higher than the last. I used it after my first abortive attempt at anal and discovered that stimulating my clit meant that the rest of my muscles relax to allow easier penetration. I adore it when I'm lying on my stomach and he's pumping me from behind with himself or with a dildo, or even both, but my favourite experience of all is the one that happened most recently...

It was the Monday morning after a whole weekend where we hadn't left his flat. From Thursday night through to Monday morning had been one long glorious fuckfest. We got out of bed only to eat or watch dvds wrapped up in the duvet on his sofa. I had come over and over again and he had kept up with me, always ready with a stiff member to pleasure me. I should point out at this juncture that Ruf is a skilful and accomplished lover, with the most amazing stamina, who has taken the time to listen and learn how my body works, resulting in our come ratio being something like 20:1 - that's twenty of mine to one of his of course!

I had to leave at lunchtime so we had a long lazy morning in bed, wrapped up in each other, glorying in the feel of naked skin on naked skin. I stroked his chest over and over, feeling the crunch of the hair under my palm. I love that sound. Sometimes in the half-light of dawn, lying in bed, I reach out my hand slightly, palm down to stroke him and the pain in my chest at his absence is only matched by the sigh of delight that runs through me when my touch is rewarded by the reassuring presence of that warm, hard, crunchy resistance beneath my fingers and the realisation that we are together again. It's only as I've become more mature that I have learned to appreciate the delights of the hairy chest. I love this manifestation of his masculinity. And so, on this, as on many other days, we talk, we laugh, we doze, we fuck and we talk again, always with some part of our skin touching against the other. I have never spent so many consecutive hours naked in bed with a man before.

And on this day, I was still horny. He has the most incredible effect on my libido. I find it very hard to be in a room with him and not touch him. I reached under my pillow and found the tulip. He smiled at being brought back from his reverie by the familiar buzz as I placed it against my clit and fired it up. Leaving me lying on my back, he pulled the closest knee outwards towards him so it rested on his chest and scooted himself down the bed to be at right angles to me. He waited whilst I had my first orgasm, watched the flush creep up my chest and into my cheeks as my breathing quickened and then softened again.

He waited still and watched another, listening to the change in the tone of the vibration from the slickness of my excitement and then, as the third started to gather momentum, he slid his beautiful hard cock inside me. The clitoral orgasms had prepared the way easily for him and I opened my knees wide for optimum access. Sliding into my liquid centre, it's like he was made for my body, his cock rubs against my gspot and fills me, making me come hard, opening my legs wider and grinding down against him. The double whammy of clit and gspot orgasms and I can feel the spurting explosion of wetness trapped inside me by his cock. He fills me completely and it is only the thrust and withdrawal of his pumping that allows the flood to slowly escape, seeping from out of me and trickling onto the bed.

But the tulip waits for no man (or woman) and another one hits me and another, leaving me breathless and gasping. In a valley between the peaks, when things subside a little, I open my eyes and look down the bed at him. He's lying on his side with his elbow supporting his head and smiling up at me, whilst his hips move gently back and forth. I know he must be getting tired and, as another one starts to build, I'm trying to whisper 'Just one more, just one more'. My mouth is attempting to form the words but Ive lost the ability to engage my vocal chords in any coherent sounds so he simply nods encouragingly, smiles that smile and continues to pump. Not hard, not fast. Just rhythmically in and out and in out. He cannot know what I can feel. Time stands still and I have no idea how long the experience endures. All I am aware of is the incessant buzzing of the toy mixed with my own strange guttural groans, the rushing in my ears as the blood pounds there and the throbbing between my legs for the same reason. I know what will happen. I know it is waiting but not quite there yet. The more orgasms I have, the higher I go, the deeper the pressure builds, the closer it comes...

I lose count as they peak and trough, peak and trough. Grasping one nipple with my free hand and squeezing tightly, arching my back, the world goes black and I have to concentrate on trying to relax and breathe as they hit, each one harder than the one before, culminating in two ear-splitting, screaming, shrieking, bucking, shaking, spurting explosions in quick succession, leaving me limp and trembling as he envelopes me tightly in his arms.

'You had seven more,' he imparts. I look at him blankly. 'You wanted one, you took seven...' And he smiles and kisses the top of my head.

Was that really selfish of me? Of course, I made it up to him... as soon as Id got my breath back.

I asked Ruf about it afterwards and he said that for him it was as if they merged into one massive long, wet rollercoaster ride... and his quads knew all about it the next day :)

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